The Gathering Clouds
by Susanna B
Summary: Sirius Black has returned from beyond the veil, after twelve years in exile. All he wants is a quiet life, with his remaining friends and his godson Harry, but some old and new enemies have other ideas...lots of action, drama,and comedy!please R&R!
1. Chapter 1

Sirius Black woke up that morning and knew that the day had finally come. Today was the day that he could, perhaps, get some of his life back. He sat on the edge of his bed for a long time, listening to the sound of his own breathing, and the raindrops hitting the floor by the fireplace. Suddenly, a huge wave of emotion threatened to engulf him, but he gulped it down and shook his head to clear it.

Harry. He could see Harry again.

With a heavy sigh, he got to his feet, and dressed slowly. He could feel the curse shimmering in the air around him, as if it knew what he was planning. He smiled to himself, and padded across the room to the cupboard. Using the key he kept around his neck, he opened the door and peered inside at the small pot which was bubbling quietly inside.

He felt weak, and had to clutch the cupboard door for support. _No_...he wouldn't let it defeat him. He could feel himself being sucked back in, but he would not allow it. Not now, not after twelve years...

He closed and locked the cupboard door again, then headed to the fireplace and set about starting a fire with some briquettes and newspapers. The flames were not burning fiercely enough, and so Sirius picked up the half-emptied bottle of wine from his bedside and threw it onto the flames, which began to blaze a little harder. He then carefully put the iron cauldron-stand into the fire. Glancing down at his hands, he realised they were trembling slightly; he clenched them to stop it, and strode back to the cupboard, where he stared once more at his potion. Sirius had never been particularly skilled at potions, but he had had a long time to work on this one...

Carefully, terrified that he would drop it, Sirius carried the small cauldron to the fire and placed it on the stand. Then he watched with bated breath as the blue liquid began to bubble and boil...and as it began to give off a blue-tinged smoke, which smelt oddly fresh as it filled Sirius' nostrils. He stepped backed hastily, unsure what effects the potion would have on a human...he retreated to the far corner of the room, just as the air began to sizzle.

He saw Bellatrix's face as he fell through the archway...he saw Harry running towards him, his mouth open in a never-ending roar of terror...he saw Remus' pain and sorrow...and then everything that had happened beyond the veil began to play in his mind, as all around him, the curse that had followed him since that day began to wither and die...

Suddenly, Sirius felt a sharp pain in his forehead...slowly it spread through his face, into his neck, through his whole trunk, reaching the soles of his feet. He dropped to his knees in agony, but it was the agony of victory, because he this was how he felt when the curse had been laid, and now, he knew, he was being set free. He could see the blue smoke filling the room now, mingling with hazy veil-like mist that had lingered around Sirius for twelve years.

Suddenly, the entire room lit up, and an ear-piercing scream filled Sirius' head, causing him to roar in pain. A voice, barely audible over the shrieking, whispered in his ear, '_you belong to us Sirius Black. Turn your back on us at your peril.'_ And then, as abruptly as it had begun, the screaming stopped. Sirius opened his eyes slowly, and it took him several seconds to realise what was different...the mist was gone! He blinked several times, afraid that he was imagining its disappearance...but the potion had worked. The curse was lifted.

Yes, Sirius Black had spent a long time in the dark. But now he was free.

********************************

Sirius' first thought was for Harry. More than anything he wanted to find his godson, and see how life was treating him. He knew, of course, that Harry had been accepted into the Auror Training Programme – the Daily Prophet had covered that at the time – but there had been very little information about Harry Potter in the media in the following years, which, Sirius supposed was a good thing. The Boy Who Lived had served his purpose, and was now free to live as ordinary a life as possible.

But no, he couldn't see Harry for the first time in over a decade while he looked like this. It was a long time since Sirius had looked at himself in a mirror, but he imagined it was not a pretty sight. His robes were worn-out, faded and torn; he had been cutting his hair and beard with a knife all these years; he had no socks, and his shoes were literally falling apart. Come to think of it, he mused, this was how he must have looked when he had first met Harry, in the Shrieking Shack. He smiled to himself, and with one last glance around the room, he opened the door and left his prison.

Arriving at Diagon Alley, Sirius first made a bee-line for Pigglesworth's Barber Shop, which lay at the junction between Diagon Alley and Historic Alley, the old part of the town. There were several other clients already sitting in chairs, with razors, scissors and shaving brushes working on them of their own accord. Seated at a desk at the far end of the room was a short, chubby, balding man, who was sweating profusely, leaving large dark patches all over his grey robes.

'May I help you?' He asked, mopping his brow with a handkerchief as Sirius approached him.

'Haircut please', Sirius replied, while feeling that this was perhaps stating the obvious. Mr. Pigglesworth wrinkled his nose and looked Sirius up and down. 'I'll have to cut it myself', he sighed, 'have a seat, I'll get everything ready.'

Sirius requested a clean shave, and a very short haircut. As he sat there, he realised that Pigglesworth was staring at him intently as he worked. Sirius felt the old sensation of panic rising in his chest, before he remembered that he had been dead for twelve years, and no matter how much Pigglesworth thought he _looked _like Sirius Black, he would not know that it actually _was_ him. When the barber was done, he stared at himself in the mirror; for a split second, he saw his twenty-five-year-old self, in the days before Voldemort came. He paid the barber quickly and left, not wanting to be drawn into conversation. He then stopped in to Madam Malkin's and bought himself several new sets of robes, and a cloak. He changed into a dark blue set before leaving the shop, paid her and headed onto his next port of call: a wand.

Stepping inside Ollivander's wand shop, Sirius felt as though he were eleven years old again, and about to begin his time at Hogwarts. Silence hung heavy in the air, and specks of dust were visible in the air, caught in the glow of the sunlight. Sirius approached the counter somewhat nervously, and coughed.

'I don't know how you did it, Sirius Black, but once again you have returned to us.' Ollivander stepped forward from amongst the aisles of wands, and fixed Sirius with his pale eyes. Sirius was taken aback. He had known that Ollivander would recognise him, but had not expected him to do so this quickly.

'It's been a long time', Sirius replied, smiling weakly, 'and I need a new wand.'

Ollivander cocked his head to one side, looking curious. 'You have seen much', he stated calmly, 'and you have been far...further from here than most will ever be in life...this will take some time.' Then, he snapped into action, bustling down the aisles, collecting wand boxes from various places. 'I think elm is the wood for you', he called over his shoulder, 'but the core, and the length...that will take some thought.' He piled the boxes in front of Sirius, then gazed at him again. 'You have not aged a day, you know', he remarked, 'since those photos were published for your wanted posters. And that was twelve years ago.'

Sirius nodded and avoided his eyes, not wanting to discuss his business with the wandmaker. He picked up the first box, and removed the wand from inside.

'Unicorn hair, three strands. Ten and a half inches. Elm, naturally', Ollivander informed him. Sirius closed his eyes and grasped the wand tightly. It was so long since he had used a wand, he was afraid that none of them would work for him, but he had to try.

'Lumos', he said loudly. The wand vibrated briefly in his hand, then went still. Ollivander shook his head. 'Try this one', he said eagerly, 'Centaur hoof shavings, eleven inches.'

The same thing happened. 'Not to worry', Ollivander chirped, becoming visibly excited, 'something more unusual...'

Sirius tried no less than thirty-seven wands before Ollivander began to lose confidence. For several minutes, he appeared to be in deep thought, staring intently at the ceiling. Suddenly, he snapped his fingers, causing Sirius to jump. Ollivander's eyes were gleaming, and he was grinning from ear to ear. 'I have it', he cried, 'I know what you need!' He disappeared briefly and returned with a red, leather box, and handed it to Sirius.

Sirius opened the box tentatively, and gasped when he saw what lay inside; the wand was almost pure white in colour, with thin gold strands running through it. It was quite long and elegant, and it emitted an energy from the moment that Sirius opened the box.

'Pegasus wing feather', Ollivander said quietly, 'twelve and a half inches. Elm heartwood.'

Sirius stared at the wandmaker in disbelief. 'Pegasus?' he repeated, 'from the myth?'

Ollivander nodded. 'When I went into exile after the return of Voldemort, I travelled far and wide, searching for new, exotic wandcores', he told Sirius. 'In Athens, among the remains of a temple, I found an old wizard who was dying. In his possession, he had one feather from the winged horse Pegasus, who helped Bellepharon to defeat the Chimera, and created springs of water wherever his hooves touched. He requested that I bury him, as he had no family, and in return, he would leave me the feather. So I did what he asked. I put the feather into this wand. Try it.'

With trembling hands, Sirius gripped the wand in his hand. He immediately felt a rush of warmth fill his entire body. 'Lumos', he whispered.

The wand tip slowly began to glow brighter and brighter, until its light almost blinded the two wizards. Sirius felt the power of the wand coursing through him, felt a power that had never been his with any of his old wands.

'It's not just the wand, you know', Ollivander told him, 'you are a more powerful wizard than you were all those years ago. I can feel it within you. With this wand, you will do great things. All that you have seen has made you stronger, it has brought out everything that is good within you. And your strength will be needed in the days to come.'

'What?' Sirius was puzzled, 'what do you mean? What days are to come?'

Ollivander exhaled loudly, and suddenly looked old and worn-out. He met Sirius' eyes sorrowfully. 'The darkness is coming back', he whispered, 'there will be war and blood and vengeance, and wizards pitted against wizards. I can tell you no more. Go, Sirius, and be with your friends. There is not long left before the clouds begin to gather.'

'Please, Ollivander', Sirius begged, a tight knot of fear growing in his stomach once more, 'what are you talking about? Voldemort's dead, I don't understand who you mean!'

'Take the wand and go', Ollivander replied sadly, 'I want no payment, other than that you continue to fight for what is good. Keep Harry Potter safe.'

'What does this have to do with Harry?' Sirius cried, 'please, you have to tell me what this is about!'

At that moment, a woman and a small boy stepped into the shop. 'Hello', said the woman sunnily, 'my little Horace needs a wand!'

Ollivander plastered a smile on his face and with one last warning glance at Sirius, launched into a discussion about Hogwarts houses with the woman.

Sirius debated waiting until the woman left, but something told him that it would do no good. Ollivander would say no more. So leaving the box on the counter, he took the wand and left the musty little shop, with his only thought being how to find his godson, come what may.


	2. The meeting

With his new hair, clothes and wand, Sirius felt like an entirely new man. His next problem, however, was where to find Harry, without drawing too much attention to himself. While he knew his name had been cleared upon his 'death', Sirius was still wary of what the public reaction to his return might be. He decided to head for the post office, and see if he could find out any information there.

He stepped into one of the hundreds of information booths in the General Post Office on Historic Alley, each containing a registry of all wizards and witches in the Britain. He flicked straight to the Ps, but found no 'Potter, H', within the registry's pages. Slightly puzzled, Sirius wondered briefly whether Harry had left the country. He thumbed quickly to the Ws, and found his second choice – in fact, he found six. Noting the address, he stepped out of the booth and made his way to one of the many fireplaces at the far end of the post office. Grabbing a pinch of Floo powder and tossing a sickle into the donations pot, he stepped into the fireplace and shouted 'Number Twelve Gormley Road, Edinburgh!'

The world began to spin violently, the huge post office becoming a blur, before a new image began to form before Sirius' eyes; he was looking into a small, cluttered kitchen, where a curly haired woman stood with her back to him at the sink. The image settled and Sirius' feet felt once more as though they were on solid ground. The fireplace was closed off from the kitchen by a metal gate. Sirius suspected that he would be able to open the lock, but that would hardly be polite.

'Excuse me?' He called, curious to see this woman's face.

With a small squeal, she spun around, her hand on her heart.

Sirius' stomach did a somersault. She was twelve years old than when he had last seen her, but Hermione Granger was still entirely recognisable in the pretty young woman who stood staring at the stranger in her fireplace.

'Who are you?' She demanded, hands on her hips, advancing menacingly on the fireplace. 'If your selling Snifflyworms, I'm not interested and you're the second saleswizard I've told to clear off today! Shoo! Back where you came from!'

He didn't know why, but Sirius felt hot tears filling his eyes. He blinked fiercely to clear them away. 'Does...does Ronald Weasley live here?' He asked tentatively.

Hermione relaxed her aggressive stance. 'Do you work with Ron?' She asked, her head tilted to one side.

'Used to', Sirius replied with difficulty. It wasn't entirely a lie.

Hermione Granger pointed her wand at the lock on the gate, and it swung open silently. 'He'll be home in a few minutes', she told him with a smile. 'Your name is?'

'Simon', Sirius blurted out, realising that perhaps he should have put more thought into the preservation of his identity before this second, 'Simon Brown.'

'Hermione', she responded with a smile. She gestured towards one of the chairs at the kitchen table. 'Have a seat Simon, like I said, Ron won't be long! Pumpkin juice?'

'Yes please', Sirius answered gratefully, still fighting against the lump in his throat. He coughed to clear it. 'When...when did you two get married?' He asked, unable to contain his curiosity.

'Five years ago', she told him, filling a glass with pumpkin juice and sliding it across the table to him. 'Have you not seen Ron since then?'

Here stood Hermione Granger, dressed in deep pink robes, her bushy hair tamed into a ponytail, her brown eyes just as serious as when Sirius last saw her. He shook his head slightly to wake himself up, and said 'yeah, it's been a while. I've been travelling. What's he up to these days?'

'Still working away as an auror, can't tear him away from it', she replied cheerfully, pouring some pumpkin juice for herself. 'Where were you travelling?'

'All over', Sirius replied vaguely. His appetite whetted, he wanted even more information. 'And what about you? What do you do?'

Hermione yawned. 'I'm teaching at Hogwarts – Defence Against the Dark Arts. Rather dull in comparison!'

'Not at all', Sirius replied with a sad smile, 'a friend of mine used to teach that subject.'

'Who was it?' Hermione asked interestedly, 'I probably knew them!'

Sirius cleared his throat loudly. Every fibre of his being wanted to tell her who he was, to break down and then ply her with twelve years' worth of questions...but she did not know him, and he desperately wanted a friendly face, someone who would recognise him despite the years and the unlikelihood of his appearance...now that he was here, he was not quite sure what to do once Ron arrived. 'He didn't teach in Hogwarts', he replied, not looking at Hermione, 'he taught in Beauxbatons...he died some years ago.'

'I'm sorry', Hermione murmured, looking concerned.

Sirius nodded dumbly. 'So...Hermione...do you know any of Ron's other work friends?'

'Oh yes', she replied enthusiastically, obviously relieved that the awkward moment had passed, 'are you an auror? Or did you work in the Ministry with him before he was accepted?'

'Yeah, that's it', Sirius replied, 'only for a while, but I got on with him pretty well. He is...was...a good kid.'

At that moment, they heard the sound of whistling outside. 'That'll be him', Hermione said, jumping to her feet. 'He'll be delighted to see an old friend from the Ministry!'

Sirius heard what he presumed was the front door being opened, then footsteps down the hall, accompanied by whistling all the way. He got to his feet. After a couple of seconds, the kitchen door opened, and a tall, lean, red-haired man wearing bright green robes and carrying a satchel and chewing something vigorously, entered the room. 'Look who it is Ron!' Hermione said happily, 'it's Simon from the Ministry!'

Ron switched his focus from his wife to Sirius; his mouth fell open, allowing several crumbs to spill out onto the carpet.

'Ron!' Hermione hissed, 'manners!'

Ron stretched a hand backwards to grab the door handle for support. 'Bloody hell', he whispered.

Sirius smiled nervously, while inside his heart was singing. Ron recognised him. Ron was a link to the past, to everyone and everything that Sirius had lost. Most importantly of all, he was a link to Harry.

'It can't be', Ron wheezed, staring wildly from Sirius to Hermione, who was looking very concerned.

'He said he worked with you', she said uncertainly, 'what's the matter Ron?'

'It's been a long time, Ron', Sirius said with a grin, no longer able to contain his happiness.

Ron walked across the room until he stood directly in front of Sirius. He looked him up and down, and then reached out and touched his arm, as if to see if he was real. 'Is this a trick?' He asked quietly, 'Polyjuice Potion?'

Sirius shook his head, and grasped Ron's hand. 'Twelve years and you still haven't found a cure for being so ginger', he laughed; the noise seemed oddly unfamiliar to his ears.

'You're real!' Ron said, finally swallowing whatever he had been eating, 'you're real!' And he grabbed Sirius into a bear hug with a roar of excitement.

'WHAT IS GOING ON RONALD?' Hermione screeched. Sirius noticed that she had drawn her wand for safety.

'IT'S SIRIUS!' Ron bellowed, yanking Sirius' arm into the air as though he had just won a boxing match. 'It's bloody SIRIUS BLACK!'

Hermione's reaction mirrored Ron's comically. She dropped her wand and her jaw simultaneously. 'I thought you looked familiar', she said, turning deathly white, 'but I never thought...I'm so sorry...I should have recognised...'

'I don't care!' Sirius said happily, striding across the room to hug her too, 'I'm here! That's all that matters!'

'But how?' Hermione asked in astonishment, 'how are you back? The veil...I mean, beyond the veil....you fell through, that means you...'

'Died?' Sirius finished her sentence for her. 'I didn't die. I fought back, and I survived. It took me this long but I'm back now! My first plan was to find Harry, but he's not in the registry, where is he?'

'Oh he wanted to stop being hassled by fan mail so he took himself off the registry, he lives about ten miles from here!' Ron told him excitedly.

'Wait', Hermione interrupted, 'do you know what happened? I mean, after you fell...do you know about Voldemort and the battle and...everything?'

'I know that Voldemort's gone, if that's what you mean', Sirius replied, sobered by the thought. 'I know about Dumbledore and Remus and everyone else. I wish I could have fought, I wish I could have been free to save them...but everything was so dark...'

'You don't need to talk about it', Ron said hurriedly, shooting Hermione a warning look. 'Here...will we take you to see Harry? Can we? Can we see the look on his face?'

'Of course', Sirius cried, feeling the tears spring to his eyes again. This time he didn't struggle against them.

'Come on!' Ron shouted, grabbing him by the arm and dragging him to the fireplace. 'Quickly! Come ON Hermione!'

The three of them piled into the fireplace, and Ron threw down the Floo Powder, shouted 'Number Eighteen, Dumbledore Place!'

When the world stopped whirling, Sirius, Ron and Hermione staggered out of the fireplace and into a huge, bright living room. There was nobody there, but Ron bellowed 'HARRY!' at the top of his lungs, despite Hermione's tut-tutting.

'What?'

The answer came from somewhere above their heads. Sirius' hearing went all funny, and everything seemed to slow down. Ron wrenched the door open, and sprang into the hall, shouting Harry's name up the stairs.

Sirius saw his feet first. He was wearing jeans...and a black jumper. He was moving so quickly down the steps that Sirius could not see his face. He disappeared from sight for a moment...Sirius felt Hermione's supporting hand on his back...he heard Ron in the distance saying 'just go in...you have to see...'

Harry Potter had grown several inches since the day in the Department of Mysteries, and had broadened somewhat at the shoulders. His hair was cut short, shorter than Sirius had seen it before, revealing the lightning scar on his forehead. His bright green eyes looked puzzled behind his glasses...until his eyes met Sirius'.

Sirius felt his heart begin to knit together again, and the pain was terrible but wonderful all at once. 'Harry', he said, his voice breaking on the name he had thought of non-stop...the name that had kept him from giving in to the darkness.

Harry stared blindly at his godfather, knowing that he knew him but being unable to believe that he stood in front of him. Sirius stood before him in silence, his hands by his sides, smiling. He wanted Harry to come to him, to know him...

Harry blinked slowly twice, and licked his lips. His green eyes were full of memory, or pain, of loss, of hurt...of hope, and faith and love. They mirrored Sirius' own, at that moment, exactly.

'S...Sirius?'

And godfather and godson embraced. The darkness had never seemed further away.


End file.
